Hitokiri Vampire
by sadsnow
Summary: Hitokiri doesn't only mean manslayer, it originated from vampire. My name is Kaoru Kamiya. I am damned because of Battousai. Here, I damned the world along with me, then I tried to undamn it.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own rk. If I did I'll make a sequel and introduce new songs into the anime.

Hitokiri

My name is Kaoru, and I am a hitokiri. I am four thousand years old.

You used to think a hitokiri was an ancient Japanese assassin. You used to think they were human, just like everyone else, but with superior martial art skills. And you also used to think they only went after important people, that they had masters and clans and organizations they belonged to. Well, I'm sorry to say, that you used to think WRONG.

Hitokiri… the word is ancient. Over time, it _has _come to mean an assassin, but you don't know where it originated from. My species, my kind, we take different names in different cultures. Perhaps you should know that they call us vampire in Europe, but hitokiri in Asia. I should think that we were first given that name because one of original species used to refer to himself as hitokiri battousai. Familiar? Maybe. Anyway, he went around killing people in the name of Ishinshishi, and he called himself hitokiri. As his occupation was a secret assassin aka manslayer, the term eventually came to mean that. He was famous after all… He plays a big part in this story, I'll tell you more later.

All those horror stories you've heard and read were real after all. Remember the nightmares you had after watching a vampire movie, or reading a vampire story? Have no doubt about it- vampires do exist. I'm living evidence.

For convenience's sake, I'll refer to myself as vampire… just in case all of you get confused.

The first vamp story was definitely Dracula. You know, the original one by Bram Stoker? Well… I'd known Dracula. He was English, and he wasn't known as Dracula. From what I've heard, he actually developed a kind of telepathic bond with this said Stoker fellow… Probably just one night. And no, Dracula was not gay. Vampires usually don't have long-term relationships. Normally, our victims wake up with nothing more than a headache- no memories, no bite marks, no messy blood. Nothing. Stoker had been an exception. After the encounter, he had written his book, about Count Dracula. I highly suspect the idea came from my friend.

Hitokiris/Vampires are more than what you humans think we are. It is true, we are evil and we don't have souls. Garlic doesn't stop us though… Neither does silver crosses, or the currently popular wooden stakes. None of that nonsense. vampires are immortal. When we gave our souls to the devil, we got back something in return. Our flesh heals when we get injured, and no ordinary human can kill a vampire. Our blood is infused with magical powers, but no, we cannot convert a human to a vampire with just a bite in the neck. That makes no sense at all! Imagine- if all our victims became hitokiris, there wouldn't be any humans left at all. It is, in truth, very hard work. A full blood transfusion is necessary, and the effort drains us. However, if humans have got one thing right about us, it is the fact that blood sustains us. I cannot explain why- I'm not a scientist. There's just this strong life force in blood that draws us to it. We cannot survive without blood. We crave it. It gives us energy, it gives us strength. That's just the way it is. As the story evolves, I'll tell you more about me and my kind. On the spot, right now, it's kind of hard to think of everything.

The story that follows is my story. It is my autobiography, one I record now because I fear I'll never have the chance to do so again. My life is rich, my memories many- it would be too much of a waste if they just disappeared along with my body and my mind. You realize I didn't say my soul. I'd already lost my soul a long long time ago.

No one is born a hitokiri. I was born Kaoru Kamiya in a rural village somewhere in Japan. Life was simple, life was good. Born to a relatively outstanding man and a beautiful woman, I lived a contented. I've no idea what the date was… When (not where, I know) I lived, time was told by the sun's position in the sky, and no one cared exactly when it was.

As a child, I'd always been more intelligent than most. Adults often marveled at my ability to comprehend things they themselves could not understand. Because of this, I was known and although I was a child, my views were still considered. I had dark ebony hair and bright blue eyes. My skin was relatively pale just like the rest of my village. Even at ten, I already had some admirers. After all, when and where I come from, a girl should get married by the time she goes through puberty. You know, the blood thing, my best red friend? Yeah.

That wasn't the point. I loved my life, I loved my family, I loved the stars. My life seemed so perfectly simple. Everyday, I gained knowledge from my father in the mornings (he was a teacher and thus respected) and learnt how to weave/sew/wash/etc from my mother in the afternoons. At night, I slept peacefully in my bed. Life was routine, yes, but at least it was pure.

Like this, I lived happily.

Most unfortunately, everything began to change when I was ten years old.

Remembering it now hurts, but… what the heck, I'll try my best.

A few months after I turned ten, people began collapsing suddenly in the streets: no warning, no prior cough, nothing. These externally healthy people just fainted, fell into a coma, woke a few days later, bled from various orifices, then keeled over and died. A wave of disease swept through my village, mysteriously killing off half of our population, seemingly randomly. I was lucky, and so was my family- none of us contracted the deadly virus. However, the illness took someone close to my heart- my best friend.

Now, my best friend wasn't one of my neighbours' children. As previously mentioned, I was intelligent and mature, I couldn't find the kind of companionship I enjoyed in those kids. No. Instead, my best friend was the daughter of the village priest, Tomoe Yukishiro. She was 19, beautiful, and pregnant when she died. The loss of both mother and child truly upset me. I knelt beside her body, out in the open, regardless of the fact that the virus might be contagious, and cried for hours.

We used to sing together, soulful and religious hymns that inspired us. We were such good friends, we could chat forever. The age gap was no hindrance- in fact, we enjoyed each other's company tremendously. I remember, I'd been so happy for her when she'd finally agreed to marry the man of her dreams, we spent an entire week sewing her wedding dress together. But the curse of the illness and changed all that. All had been lost, the golden girl, the child, their future. She'd died in my arms, blood seeping through her pores. But that was not the worst of disasters which struck my village.

As the plague continued, the people despaired. Normally god-fearing people, times of great need encouraged rumours of a pagan priest from a neighbouring village who could help us get rid of this demon of an infestation that would kill us all. I couldn't blame them. We were really desperate for help, for the dying to end. Soon, six men were elected to get his help. One of them was my father.

According to the priest, a yaishino demon had come to our town, causing the plague. Only a batotsu demon, as the yaishino's mortal enemy, could help us get rid of it. Of course, I disapproved heartily of this. Who knew what the batotsu might do to us after eating the yaishino? Who knew what damage it could do? But, no one wanted to listen to a 9-year-old, darkhaired, blue-eyed little girl. Everyone just wanted to disease to go away. Even my educated father didn't believe me, casually pushing aside my concerns as childish paranoia.

On that day, I slipped out behind my mother's back while her eyes were diverted away. I used to think it was curiosity, but now I feel it was fate. Anyway, I had a really bad feeling about the ritual which would summon the batotsu. I normally went with my instincts, so off I stole, into the woods, hiding behind a large stone around the circular clearing where 7 men gathered. One of them was my father, and another 5 were similarly respected men in the village. The seventh was odd-looking, dressed in nothing but a loincloth. Jineh. Even his name sounded weird.

The weather agreed with me. This ceremony was wrong. Cold wind blew, but it was summer, it should have been sweltering. The moon was in full view, her eerie light illuminating the party of 7. I was freaked out, but still I stayed. I don't know why, maybe it was really fate.

The ritual started, and man was doomed.


	2. Chapter 2

The priest stood up, hair wildly blowing with the eerie wind, giving him a maniacal look. Still peering secretively from behind my solid stone rock, I looked on. However, when he moved and I saw what lay in the middle of the circle of 6 men, in front of the standing priest, I couldn't help but gasp.

It was my friend, my bestest dearest lovablest friend.

Yukishiro, Tomoe. Although dead, she still looked resplendent in her white dress, an expression of calm on her face, hands laid peacefully over her large expanded belly. I was stunned. What was this evil man doing to her and her dead child? She'd been dead for a week already! If anyone deserved to be left in peace after death, it was Tomoe. She had always been caring, calm, considerate- the perfect friend. Why were they dishonouring her even after her passing?

These questions filled my head while I continued to observe the sinister ceremony, a combination of anger, curiousity and mostly fear written on my visage. Now, I was certain something was not right. VERY not right. This was wrong, totally wrong. Still, I remained petrified, rooted to the spot, frozen in place, whatever. The point was, I was shell-shocked by what my eyes were telling me.

The priest had started to chant in a high shrill voice, tapping his black shiny mystical-looking staff against Tomoe's belly. Tap, tap, tap. The sound produced sounded hollow, in a cold and empty way. I desperately wanted to turn away, to peel my glued eyes off of her corpse. I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn't. My intuition was screaming for me to run, to escape, to go before something really bad happened. I was a child, and at that moment I really missed the comfort of my mother's arms.

Meanwhile, the chanting continued. I didn't recognize his words. They didn't sound like Japanese, or any other dialects from nearby villages we sometimes spoke. It was hissy and drawly at the same time- many _s_s and _t_s. At that time, I'd noticed there was a kind of rhythmic chime to the chanting, and now, at 4000 years old, I've long known it was called dotted rhythm. When you're as old as I am, you pick up many skills. Now dotted rhythm does not sound in the least creepy, but coupled with the ominous chanting and the flat tone, it permeated through the still air like a spreading disease, clogging up the clearing.

While I watched frozenly, the priest's tone rose gradually, higher, higher, faster, faster, reaching a feverish pitch. He wasn't tapping now- he was more of banging on her abdomen, and blood was seeping out from Tomoe's pores. Sickened, I momentarily turned by attention to the surrounding men. By now, I could see that they were disturbed too. At least half of them looked doubtful now, and an identical fear reflected in our eyes. I could see that my father, a cultured man, desperately wanted to turn his head, but the suspense was too great.

Finally, after the crescendo, the priest seemed to reach the climax of the ritual, standing up and raising both arms into the air in front of the bloody corpse, a shiny sheen of blood covering the staff clutched tightly in his right hand. Crying out abruptly, he seemed to call forth the batotsu from the depths of hell. These were the only words I understood throughout the entire ceremony.

Suddenly, Tomoe sat up.

Or rather, her corpse did. I knew for a fact that she was dead- I'd knelt beside her unmoving body praying for her happiness in the next world. I had held her ice-cold hands hours after she died, and I knew without a doubt that she was dead. This was not tomoe. This was the batotsu- the demon had come.

Just as abruptly as it sat up, the batotsu smiled a wide grin on tomoe's normally composed face. I tried hard not to scream. There was something sadistic in the grin as the demon stared at each of the men in the clearing. As its intense gaze passed the rock I was hiding behind, I could feel its eyes on me. It could see me, I was sure. Its grin only seemed to enlarge, as if it was mocking me in my helplessness, behind the large stone. I shivered, partly in anticipation, but mostly in dread.

Then, the demon opened its gaping mouth (I shuddered to think of it as Tomoe's) and extended a long purple tongue. It ended in a fork, like a viper. It was abnormal! I could swear by anything and everything that Tomoe never had a purple tongue. This was one part of the demon which truly belonged to it. The hellish colour coupled with the horribly elongated size gave the tongue a whip-like look. And then, to my extreme horror, as well as the other men's shock, the tongue swept quickly across the priest's face, and came away with skin. I know I tried to scream, but I couldn't- I was too horrified.

What followed next for him was a gory and terrible end, even for one as fanatical as the priest. The batotsu proceeded to lick off all the man's skin, piece by piece, whilst I and the other men sat a distance away, petrified by extreme fear. Deep inside me, I understood that the demon was taking a blood sacrifice- a payment for what the priest had asked it to do- eradicate the yaishino. Even though I did not know Jineh personally, in my culture, it was still a sin to kill an innocent man.

Then, just as it came, the batoutsu left after grinning sadistically, once more, in my direction. Now I was sure it could see me, and I felt cursed. My child's fear induced me into expecting to die any second, but after a while my fears was assuaged. But the night's action had not yet been completed.

The 6 men were whispering in a hushed and awed manner amongst themselves. Doubtless, the priest's death had shocked them to the core, as well. Suddenly, there was shout from the one of them- my father.

"Look! Tomoe's child is not dead!"

When I thought I could be stunned no further, I was quickly proved wrong. Horror-struck, I peeked around the stone again, at Tomoe's corpse. Indeed, the bulge at her navel had started to squirm. By now, I had run out of synonyms for "shocked".

The clearing erupted into loud arguments. 3 of the six men wanted to save the baby, whilst the other three were convinced it would be a curse to their village. As they bickered on, I watched, mesmerized, hoping and hoping that they would decide to leave the corpse there, untouched. However, my father had other ideas.

Quick as a flash, my father took his trusty hunting knife from his boot, and slashed Tomoe's abdomen open. He drew forth the baby, skin dyed red. It started bawling immediately. It was a boy. (I'd helped the midwives with their work, so I didn't feel embarrassed or anything.)

"Look!" He exclaimed forcefully. "Does it not look like any other innocent baby? We must keep it. Our very way of life states that every life is precious. Besides, this is the chief's grandson! Look at how strong he looks! Look at him!"

Other religious men immediately objected. "No! He is a demon. Look at how his eyes move to study us, even though he is only a few minutes old. This cannot be normal! He is an abomination, and he must die."

However, as before, the debate was evenly split: My father, the village chief, and another man on one side; the religious head, his brother, and yet another religious man on another. While they argued, the baby continued to cry. I decided that it was my turn to speak now.

Jumping out from behind the rock, I argued loudly, drawing all attention to me. "Father, look with your own eyes! Tomoe has been dead for over a week! Her body is rotting, her child should be dead. This is not Tomoe's baby: It's the Batotsu, come to torment us. Kill it, father, it cannot be good!"

Everyone was surprised at my presence, and I knew I was going to get it from my father when I returned home. However, then, the baby was more important.

"Still, it is life! What are we to deny it a chance at survival? Can it be blamed for its origins? It is a baby, a clean white sheet of paper! Besides, there have been instances when babies were born after their mothers had died. What about your cousin Hikaru?"

"That was different. Hikaru was born after her mother had been dead for only half an hour. Here, it is wrong! The Batotsu wants to fool us, you saw how it grinned at us!"

Then the debate continued. Some men were afraid of sinning, of taking a life, yet others wanted to take the knife and stab it to death. Finally, my father turned yet again, to me.

"Kaoru-chan, you were Yukishiro-san's best friend. You know best if this child is evil or good. If you are so sure that it is the Batotsu, then kill it with my knife. No one here will blame you."

Of course, I was dismayed. Here I was, a child barely ten, and he wanted me to commit such a serious act. However, my father, wiser than I had thought, continued.

"Now you can see, even you are not sure if this child should be allowed to live. If it grows up to be evil, we can always deal with it then. If not, then we would not be sinning. An error towards life against death is never truly wrong. For now, let us return to the village, and let the Yukishiros take care of this baby."

Said root of all this argument was currently shivering pathetically, still naked. My father wrapped it up in his tunic, and asked me to wipe it clean of the blood. Of course, I refused vehemently. No way was I acknowledging the spawn of the devil. However, when he asked me to name it, I consented.

"His name should be Battousai, accursed son of the Batotsu."

Responses

Thank you, all for reviewing. For a experimenting authoress to receive reviews is like GASP! I HAVE A REVIEW! SOMEONE READS MY CRAP! YAY, so thank you lots! You people are Wonderful reviewers!

BIG thank you to happyloveygirl, Reignashii, skenshingumi, lili125, royal blueKitsune and cleo! Your reviews really inspired me to try with another chapter.

royal blueKitsune: I haven't read interview with a vampire. Is it by Anne Rice? I tried to borrow it, but my local library is limited. Tehe. Anyway, thanks for your review! I haven't quite decided about the pairings yet… Suggestions are welcome :D

cleo: Thank you for your reminder! I will keep it to heart! Thanks for reviewing.

happyloveygirl: If I'm not wrong you're my very first reviewer! I could kiss you (XD). just kidding, but thanks a lot!

skenshingumi: Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Reignashii: The caps really cheered me up a lot! Thanks for reviewing!

lili125: Thank you for bothering to review after reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Sigh. I'd originally not intended to write a BKK fic, but then I changed my mind because Kenshin was so cute. XD. Please R and R!

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own rk. Aww.

After the creepy ritual, they brought _it_ back to the village and gave it to the Tomoe's sister to bring up. Still shaken, I'd done no more then follow my father mutely, unable to say anything or even to think clearly. The deep sense of foreboding was still present, of course, but right then I'd known I couldn't do anything more. So, after getting home and reprimanded with a long bamboo stick, I went to bed. Pushing my tear-streaked face (and my sore butt too), I resolved to wash my hands of this demon-baby matter. I reasoned that it'd only brought me trouble so far, so I'd best forget it.

In the following weeks, it became clear that the curse of the plague had been miraculously lifted. No one fell sick anymore, and even comatose patients had risen again the day after the Batotsu had been summoned. So, as I went about with my father, busy helping the villagers to get resettled in their lives, I pushed the baby incident back, further into the depths of my mind.

The next few years were relatively uneventful. I matured, grew up, gained a figure, was chased by suitors (who were discouraged violently), learnt about life, you know, the works. I lead an idealistic life: Both my parents had been blessed with good health, and the three of us lived together in a harmonious (and expanding!) village. I still subscribed to the 'living happily ever after' fairytale school of thought, so I hoped, and expected, to one day find someone who would sweep me off my feet.

My days were spent helping my father, doing chores with my mother, and secretly learning a sword skill from my mother! It was terribly exciting. See, girls aren't supposed to be so athletic and fit. But, my mother's family had taught her (on the sly) a sword skill that she had been tasked to pass down to her children, aka ME! So, we sparred with light bamboo swords (bigger versions of that horrendous child-torture cane-thing), and everytime my father walked in on us practicing we pretended to be dancing. Heh, heh. So my life wasn't totally monotonous, especially for the awkward moments during village gatherings where my father would ask me to dance ("Kaoru, you've been practicing so hard! Come on, show us what you've learnt from my beautiful wife!") and I would desperately plead sick, clutch my stomach, and try to hurl. Still, something was bothering my sixteen year old mind, and had for a long time.

Battousai.

If you recall, he should be six or seven years old now. However, as I'd grown, he'd grown too. Very quickly. Within those six years, he'd matured to a young and intelligent man. Attractive and witty, he had many girls in the village besotted with his flaming red hair (which I head was 'Oh, soooo sexy!) and his strong masculine figure (which was, oddly enough, 'just godlike! swoons, drooling at the mouth'). As a responsible young lady, I tried to avoid him. Unconsciously, he still gave me the shivers. Besides, my father had stood up for this man when he was a baby, and I did not want to strain our relationship.

However, no one in the village seemed to remember that he was supposed to be six, yet he had the appearance of a sixteen year old, and the intelligence of one much older and wiser. He already had a reputation of genius, and recently, I'd been seeing more of him then I would have preferred, since he had been helping the head of the village and my father in dealing with village problems. Truthfully, I secretly thought he was quite hot, too. I was at an age where hormones were almost everything. Additionally, I was quarter-awed and three-quarters-spooked-out that he, apparently, had a soft spot for me. Everytime we met on the street, he would smile disarmingly at me, speak softly and politely in that husky voice of his, and even give me a small present, be it a pretty bunch of flowers, a string of clay beads, or a basket of fresh fruit. Certainly, I didn't trust him, but too my shame, I found myself enjoying the 'power' his attention gave me.

On the other hand, when I looked at him, wariness still took up more then fifty percent of my gaze. Mysteriously, and very horribly, five of the six men who'd witnessed his birth from a dead friend had recently been found, blood-less, at desolate places in the jungles around our village, their bodies ripped apart. The only people who had seen him that still remained alive were myself, and of course, my father.

-----

That day, I met him again, coming out of my father's house with the new village chief after concluding a brief discussion about the chief's responsibilities. As our eyes met, I felt a chill. There was something hungry and dangerous in his amber gaze that scared me. Uncharacteristically, I felt threatened, and so ripped my sapphire eyes away.

After they left, I spoke with my father, voice tinged with urgency.

"Father, I have something to tell you. Do you remember Battousai's birth, six years ago?"

"Kaoru, there is no need to bring up such a sorrowful period in the village's history. Why are you-"

I looked around nervously before cutting him off. "Father, listen to me! Don't you find it strange that five of the six men there are now curiously dead? Don't you see that Battousai must be responsible? He has grown sixteen in six years! Father, you know with your heart that there must be something very wrong with him! We must do somethi-"

My father interrupted me, his face scrunched up in concern. "Kaoru- that could be just a coincidence. Besides, have you seen with your own eyes Battousai doing anything he should not have done? On the contrary, he has helped our village so much! People are even saying that HE should be the new chief after this one abdicates."

"No. Father, as your daughter I insist that you pay attention to this stream of convenient 'coincidences'!" I prayed desperately as I played my one and only trump card. "Father, if you truly love me, please, promise that you will do something about that man!" I hoped my father would predictably accede to my request.

"… How about this, Kaoru? Let's give Battousai a little more time, to observe him and find out his true intentions. Look, if he does anything remotely suspicious, I promise that I will do something about him! Okay?"

Ha, ha. As usual, my father had been a sucker for that line. Nodding my head reluctantly, I agreed to this compromise. This could not be considered a true victory, but at least he had listened to me. However, neither of us noticed the burning amber eyes that peered through the bushes.

-----

Everything went well (that means normally) for a while. Battousai continued to gain influence around the village. Now, it was certain that he would be asked to be the village chief in no time. Uncomfortable with this, I tried hard not to worry over it, shifting my focus to my non-existent career. One day, I decided that I wanted to work for myself, instead of just helping my father and living off his salary.

So, filled with the energy and enthusiasm of youth, I decided to start teaching martial arts to children who wanted to learn how to protect themselves! That way, I could earn a living for myself, pass down my mother's sword style, whilst teaching the village how to protect themselves. Killing three birds with one stone! My specific target audience was young girls. It was a common thing to see a strapping and muscular, testosterone-driven boy raping a pretty girl, and thus gaining marriage rights to her, regardless of betrothal or promises to another. It was sickening, so I wanted to teach them how to protect themselves, and effectively (like me!) fight off those useless bastards that tried anything.

As I was saying, I finally gathered the courage to talk with my father to find out if he would like to let me use the large hall in my class to teach students.

------

At dinner, I tried to raise the topic casually. "Eh, father, may I use our hall for mumble mumble mumble mumble?"

"Huh? What do you need to hall for?" He asked curiously.

"I want to whisper very fast set up a martial arts school for bullied kids, father." Unfortunately, I think he was feeling particularly alert that day. He caught it.

"WHAT? NO WAY! You are a YOUNG LADY, young lady! You must NOT spoil your reputation, or NO ONE will want to MARRY YOU!"

"But, Father, I want to do this! Who cares if anyone wants to marry me?"

"… I DO! You need to settle down, have kids, and carry on our family name! Do you want the Kamiya name to DIE OUT COMPLETELY?"

"But, father! Don't you see that even if I DO marry, my kids will have to take my husband's name?"

"I said no, Kaoru! At least my grandchildren (and I BETTER GET SOME before I turn forty) will have proud Kamiya blood running through their veins. It's final. You are not to set up this ridiculous school of yours. Since when did you know martial arts anyway?"

He was on dangerous ground, so I tried the hysterical daughter move. "FATHER! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO RUIN MY LIFE? WHY DON'T YOU LET ME DO WHAT I WANT TO DO?" It was getting more and more real. I no longer felt like I was acting.

"KAORU! You WILL control yourself like an educated young lady! How can you raise your voice at me, your father! I said NO, and that's FINAL!"

"FATHERRR! YOU DON'T LOVE ME, OR YOU'LL HAVE LET ME DO THIS LITTLE THING THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!"

He blew. "KAMIYA KAORU! HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST THAT EVERYTHING I DO IS NOT FOR YOUR GOOD! YOUNG LADY, YOU'RE GROUNDED!"

I ran to my room and cried until my bed could absorb no more tears. I thought my heart was broken, that my father didn't love me, and that the sky had fallen down on my silly little teenage head. Outside my window, a pair of glowing amber eyes watched me as I sobbed my tear ducts to bits. Now, I know that that night had sealed my father's fate. Now, I would do anything to not have been so impulsive, but it was too late. I'd done what I'd done, and my father would pay.

-----

The next day, my mother woke me up for breakfast, trying to comfort me. As I sulked at the table, waiting for my father to appear so we could start the meal, a loud cry reached my ears. Instinctively, I followed the sound through the kitchen, past my mother's and father's bedroom, and into my father's work room. There, my mother stood over my father, hands clutched tightly together at her chest. My eyes widened with emotion, guilt, and regret.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, flinging myself down beside him. This COULD NOT be! He was so healthy yesterday, vigourously participating in our screaming match! He had been fine! I could not believe that the pale white face, and open lifeless eyes could be those of my proud father. Why was fate so cruel, taking away my father like that! Around his body, there was no blood. In fact, he looked like one of the five dead men who had seen the ritual so many years ago. My eyes narrowed: He had been murdered, just like they had.

My mother, unable to stand the sight of her dead husband, turned around, and gasped in horror. Afraid for her, I whipped around too, and stared blankly as my heart truly broke into two.

There, on the wall, painted in bright red blood, were the words: "For Kaoru."

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REVIEW! REVIEW! Thank you, reviewers of my previous chapter! Please tell me what you think of this chapter. I'd appreciate suggestions, comments, corrections, anything will do! Thank you!


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